He's A Lumberjack, And He's (Not Quite) Okay
by TheFABFive2015
Summary: TAG 2015. A bit of fangirling fantasy, kindly inspired by my good friend, Champion The Wonder Snail. Ever wondered who chopped down all those trees for TB2's runway? Who else but our favourite lumberjack!


Yes, folks! I'm back! And, again, I must thank my wonderful friend, Champion the Wonder Snail, for inspiring this latest story.

See, we tend to talk a lot about Virgil - our favourite, manly lumberjack. So from that, and thoughts on who'd be the most likely to chop down those trees for TB2's runway... not to mention our shared hope for him to take his shirt off in series two... well, here's the result.

Enjoy! And thanks again, Champ! I hope this latest tale of Tracy Island shenanigans is all you've been waiting for!

* * *

He's A Lumberjack, And He's (Not Quite) Okay

So, then. This was his first mission for his father's new venture. Clearing these sapling palm trees, so he could build his new Thunderbird's runway.

Squinting into the sun, Virgil wiped away the latest tide of sweat that had invaded his eyes, and picked up his chainsaw. Well, fine. Bring. It. On.

Even as he fired up his saw, though, part of him still mourned their loss. A lifelong nature lover, it felt... well, kinda wrong to hack all these trees down before they'd had a chance to grow. A greater part of him, though, felt a buzz of boyish excitement for what their sacrifice would bring.

Not just his father's dream to create 'the best damn rescue team in the world', but its more personal significance. A sacrifice of his own, to help those in need. Save those in danger. To make the kind of difference that would make any father proud.

In the vast silos behind him, Virgil knew that dream was being turned into reality. Between his father's blueprints, and Brains' incalculable genius, Thunderbird Two was taking form. Embodying his own size and strength, she'd be _his_ 'bird. _His_ baby. From what he'd seen of her, he was already hopelessly in love.

Of course, she'd need the means to launch out from the island - hence today's mission to clear these trees.

As he set back to work, Virgil had to grin at how it had fallen to him. With its need for discipline and patience, it would be too slow for Scott, who'd just go all gung ho on them, and hack down every poor sap in sight. And with John still at NASA, too much of a demand on Gordon and Alan. Or, in their biggest big brother's eyes - just too damn dangerous.

No, Dad had been right. This was 'Virgil Work.' And, as ever, he was loving its challenge.

Glancing down at the saw in his hand, he then thought back on his own decision. Yes, of course he could save himself hours of effort here, and just call on Brains' latest stroke of mechanized genius, but... well, he'd never been one to shy away from a decent day's work. A physically active Virgil Tracy was a happy Virgil Tracy. And, as his wiseass brothers never tired of telling him, he had the lumberjack look down pat.

Bit warm for flannel today, though. Even at this time of the morning, it was already hot. _Really_ hot. Set to get even hotter. And without a Smother Brother in sight, Scott's words of warning wisdom still ghosted through his head.

" _Seriously_ , _Virg_? _It's_ _going to hit the nineties today, and... look, wouldn't you be better leaving it to the logger-pods_?"

Yup, when it came to fussing and fretting, Scott could cluck up there with the best of 'em. If just for a few moments, Virgil saw his eldest brother as never before. A six foot four inch clucky hen, bok-bokking around him, and... whoa!

Damn if that wasn't an image to make him collapse with laughter, and... no, Virgil. No time for sitting down on the job here. Trees to saw. Runway to build.

Climbing to his feet again, he then blinked. Damn sweat, now it was making him see things. Not henni-fied brothers, thank God, but... hmmm, that line of trees had suddenly multiplied. Gone all fuzzy, all out of focus, before merging back again.

His legs felt kinda wobbly too, but... well, no matter. Sawing those first few trees down really hadn't been that hard, and he was being typically sensible too - stopping to rest each time, and downing this water like it was going out of fashion.

Except... hmm. Wiping his forehead, Virgil had to admit... yeah, it was getting harder now. Taking more of an effort to whirl that big old saw around, and swing it into the right spot. Maybe if he took his shirt off, and... oh. He'd taken it off already? When had he done that? He didn't remember doing that, and... _wow_!

Setting down his saw, Virgil stared down at himself as if seeing himself for the first time. His arms were so big now. Really, _really_ big.

Yeah, that skinny kid who'd been so cruelly bullied at school sure had changed. Not a puny little weed any more, but like a tree. A big, round, really strong tree. Kinda like the trees he was meant to be cutting down, but which now gave way to a far greater demand.

If his arms were its branches, then his chest was its... trunk? Yeah, that was it. Its trunk. Glistening in the sun, it was - _wow_! Like - _huge_! All smooth and shiny, it seemed to go on forever. A vast plain of his body, a whole new world for his finger to go walking around, and... _oooooooh_! Further down his trunk, were those - _muscles_?!

Yup, that they were. Six of 'em, all tight against each other. So they'd be his - growth rings, right? Yeah, growth rings, that's what they'd be, and - uh oh.

No, they were the wrong shape. Not rings at all, but - squares. Well, _damn it_! They were _his_ squares, on _his_ tree, so he'd name them anything he damn well liked. So then - growth _squares_.

Still tracing them with his finger, Virgil blinked once more. All modesty aside - hell, yeah. He just had to say it.

"Well, _damn_! I am one hot lumberjack!"

"Yeah, Virg, that you are... not to mention the _overheated_ lumberjack who scared the _hell_ outta me."

 _Say what_?!

Blinking again into dazzling sunlight, Virgil frowned at the blur of darkness within it. As that darkness formed itself into a head of tousled hair, he frowned even more.

So Scott was a tree too now? Well, he sure had the height for it!

Except... hm. Scotty-Tree didn't look happy. No, Scotty-Tree looked kinda worried, his branches all folded across his trunk, and... hey, was this a _bed_?!

Well, yes. Yes, it was. For the life of him, though, Virgil couldn't remember getting into it, and - ah. Yes, trust old Scotty-Tree to fill in the blanks.

"Damn it, Virg, didn't I _tell_ you to let the loggers clear those trees, and... here, get some of this down you... slowly now, that's it... attaboy..."

Attaboy? _Attaboy_?! The last time Scott had called him that, he'd been back on the farm, gotten himself a real bad dose of sunstroke, and... uh oh.

'Uh oh' indeed. In fact, 'uh oh' didn't come close. Helped, if you could call it that, by the liquefied sugar now hitting his system, memories and his rioting imagination gave way to more coherent reality.

Yes, this explained everything that Virgil was now feeling and seeing around him. The pounding headache, that he was only alert enough now to wince at. The bed. The whirring fans beside it. The IV, swinging up on its stand. The cooling packs on his chest and neck.

More than any of that, though, it explained the brother at his bedside. The all too familiar war of emotions on Scott's face. A perfect storm of relief, and worry, and everything else that told him how stupid he'd been.

Yes, this was it, in all its glory. 'The Look.' A glare that gave way to a helpless smile as Virgil brought out the only plea for mercy that he could manage. Where Scott had 'The Look', so he had 'The Eyes.' All big and brown, and just so perfectly suited to turning his biggest big brother into a puddle of goo.

Unless his brother was really, _really_ , mad at him, it never failed. So it was an immeasurable relief when the smile on Scott's face grew into a full dimpled grin. And an even greater comfort when he felt his brother's weight settle back beside him. Right at his shoulder this time, so that an arm of gentle forgiveness could slide itself around them.

Ah, yes. No better way for a big brother to show you how much he loved you than to let you use him for your very own pillow. And, from all those years of practice, _this_ big brother's shoulder made for the best pillow in the world. Even so, Virgil knew he still fully deserved the insult that was so softly kissed into his hair.

"Idiot."

Just as he knew that a sleepily mumbled apology didn't come close to excusing himself for all the worry he'd caused.

"S'rry."

Still, they'd talk all that out later. Right now, it was more than enough to just feel another soft kiss against his forehead. Hear the voice that now coaxed him to close his eyes, and surrender himself to the tiredness that was about to engulf him.

"I know... now, just rest easy, and get some sleep... you'll feel a lot better for it, okay?"

Answered with a muffled snore that would only get louder, Scott rolled his eyes while carefully easing himself more onto the edge of Virgil's bed. With one thoroughly trashed and sickly brother on his hands... well, yes, he'd be here for long enough for him to get nice and comfy.

So, then - shoulders and head into a nest of pillows, and legs stretched out at fully extended length. And since he was now settled enough to enjoy it - ah, yes. Yes, this finishing touch made it just about perfect.

Balancing his plateful of pie on his lap, Scott then threw another fond smile towards the softly snoring figure beside him. After such a worrying morning - yes, his blissfully oblivious little brother had it coming.

"Hey, you think you're spaced out now? Just wait 'til you see your ride down to the hangars!"


End file.
